


Minus One Day

by fits_in_frames



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-27
Updated: 2007-07-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1557635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Five days, five days, five days.</i> It pounds in Sam's ears like his own heartbeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minus One Day

**Author's Note:**

> _if you live to be a hundred, i want to live to be a hundred minus one day so i never have to live without you._  
>  {joan powers //  pooh's little instruction book}  
> 
> 
> Inspired by [](http://griseldajane.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://griseldajane.livejournal.com/)**griseldajane** 's art, which is unfortunately friendslocked. Spoilers through "All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2".

_Five days, five days, five days._ It pounds in Sam's ears like his own heartbeat. His head is bursting with ideas, most of which he knows are useless.

Dean acts like he doesn't know, doesn't care but Sam's seen him out in the car, hand on the dashboard, eyes closed, lips barely moving. He's seen the Bibles lying out on hotel nightstands, always open to the same passage. He's seen Dean giving extra tips to less-than-gorgeous waitresses, sitting on the edge of his bed when he thinks Sam's asleep, holding his breath every time they get close to Kansas.

_Five days, five days, five days._

Dean said once, driving away from an ordeal with a particularly nasty demon in which Sam used himself as bait, that seeing Sam dead was the worst thing he could possibly imagine and that if he wanted to go get himself killed again could he at least wait for the hellhounds to come first. Sam said that he didn't see how asking him to endure the same pain that Dean had was even remotely fair.

"I'm not asking you to do that," Dean had said, switching hands on the steering wheel. "All I'm asking is that you don't make me go through it again."

Sam hadn't said anything, just bit his tongue and stared out the window.

_Five days, five days, five days._

Dean is sleeping now, making the same little quiet not-snores he's made since before Sam can remember. He carefully snakes the keys out of Dean's pocket. He puts the car in neutral and pushes her almost out of the parking lot before he starts her up. He turns right, hoping there's a crossroads somewhere close by. He glances at the clock on the dashboard. _12:04_ , it tells him, mockingly.

 _Four days,_ his pulse says in his ears, _four days, four days._

*

He brings the girl back with him, because he's just expelled a demon out of her, and he couldn't just _leave_ her there. He lays her out in the bed he's supposed to be sleeping in, then places the keys in Dean's accidentally opened palm. He sits on the bathroom floor, knees to his chest, arms folded, and taps the back of his head against the cool tile, rhythmically, mostly to drown out that little voice whispering in his head.

Dean wakes up some time later, near dawn. Sam hears him stirring, but chooses not to get up and explain things. When the girl wakes up a few minutes after that, she screams. Dean asks her what the last thing she remembers is. She says she doesn't know, it's all blurry. Dean tells her she's safe now, he's going to take care of her. There's a few minutes of whispering and silence, and then the wet, sloppy sounds of kissing and foreplay set in. By the time Sam turns around to peek at them, Dean's kneeling on the bed, pants around his knees, with one of her legs clamped under each arm. She's not protesting; in fact, her fingertips are digging into the backs of his arms.

Sam doesn't say anything, doesn't even make a sound. He just leans his head up against the wall again and lets himself doze off. He dreams his first real dream in a while. He's carrying Dean on his back, and his Mythology 101 professor is taunting him, tempting him to look back at his brother. He tells Dr. Tygh this is not the underworld and he's no goddamned Orpheus, so he should just fuck off.

When he wakes up, Dean, the girl and the car are all gone. He knows two of them will be back soon, so he goes out and gets himself a cup of coffee. He drinks it slowly as he sits on Dean's bed, the one where he didn't fuck the girl, and runs his fingers over the rumpled sheets. The air above it smells like sweat and grief and grime and death--like Dean, he supposes, though he's never really thought about it before.

He tosses the empty coffee cup into trash can near the door, and resumes his position just inside the bathroom. He leaves the light off, and waits.

*

It's dark when Dean sits on the other side of the wall.

"Drove her home," he explains after a minute or so.

"I figured." Dean's picking at the end of a key with his fingernail. It's annoying as fuck, but Sam doesn't mention it.

"Her name was Judy," Dean whispers, and it almost sounds like he's about to cry. The _pingping_ stops, and the keys land somewhere in the room with a _thud_.

Sam glances at his watch. _Three days,_ the hour and minute hands scream at him, _three days, three days._

Dean clears his throat. "You didn't make one." Then, after a beat of silence, "Did you?"

"No," Sam says flatly.

"Sammy..."

"I didn't, Dean. She wouldn't let me. Not part of the deal."

There's the sound of rustling fabric as Dean shifts, and then it's quiet again.

"I exorcised her," Sam says for no real reason.

Dean sniffs, and it almost sounds like approval. His cheek makes a soft sound as he leans it against the wall.

Sam holds his breath. "I don't know how to save you," he whispers, finally.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmurs, habitually, and drags his fingers in the dust on the floor between them.

They sit for a long time.


End file.
